Lose Yourself With Me
by DD Agent
Summary: Halloween, 1999. A young Jenny Shepard persuades her partner and occasional lover Leroy Jethro Gibbs to attend a party in the Paris catacombs. Not part of the '97 Series.
1. Chapter 1

**Lose ****Yourself ****with ****Me ****by ****DD ****Agent**

_I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS._

_This was from my Halloween Prompt Post and vegawriters: "Jenny and Gibbs. You pick the timeframe. But it must include a Halloween party OR a spooky case and some kind of bedroom scene that could possibly involve slutty costumes. ;)" I think it satisfies all criteria and is freaking awesome in the bargain._

_Part two will be up momentarily. Enjoy! :D_

**_Part One_**

"You know its Halloween, right?"

Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked up from the file he was examining and turned to his partner. Jenny Shepard was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was wearing basic slacks and a shirt, but the way Jenny wore clothes seemed more sexualised than normal people. Her clothes seemed to mould to her body, so every time she moved Jethro watched the fabric shimmer over her taut skin.

"You know, Shepard, I am actually capable of knowing the date. Can tell time too."

They'd only been in Paris for two months, having started their working relationship in Marseille. Two NCIS Agents sent to survey a Lebanese trawler in the hope that they'd get to know each other well enough to work the op they were currently living in the French capital. A linguist with military connections and a former sniper who couldn't keep a partner: quite a pair. On that second night in Marseille they'd gone to bed together. Something to ease the boredom, something to relieve the tension.

They hadn't stopped sleeping together, and now…_feelings_ were starting to get involved.

"We're in Paris. On _Halloween_. You know what that means, Jethro, don't you?"

He still called her Shepard, only called her Jenny when she was injured or they were in bed. But he didn't dare stop her calling him 'Jethro'. The way it rolled off her tongue made him want her even more.

"No, what does that mean?"

Jenny dropped two blood red wristbands onto the files he was examining. She was watching him with a grin, and Jethro couldn't help but grow worried. Working with Jenny was a rollercoaster - you had to keep up with her as she could play by the rules and then go off at a moment's notice. Paris was her playground, and he was always trying to keep up with her.

"There's a party tonight in the Paris Catacombs. Wristband entry only."

Jethro sighed. "Not my sort of thing, Shepard. I'm sure you could find some young Parisian to entertain you for the evening."

He tried not to notice the recoil in her eyes at such a vicious rebuttal of her idea. But he needed to keep her at arm's length. They were playing a couple in Paris, the sex was expected. But emotions other than the mentor/mentee relationship they had were not welcome. He couldn't fall in love with Jenny. Even though it was so easy to - her light humour, her charming smile, the way she could soothe him after nightmares.

"It's not just some silly little teenage rave in Paris, Jethro. This is a hard core Halloween party, run by the most powerful men in the city. The cops are all paid off; no one will shut this down." Jenny pressed her hand on the photograph of the arms dealer that had been most elusive so far. "He'll be there."

Jethro looked at the photograph, and then at the blood red band. "There a dress code to this thing, Shepard?"

Her smile was infectious, and she pressed her lips to his automatically. It was the first time they had ever kissed that hadn't resulted in sex. It was a moment of pure joy, and Jethro couldn't get over how wonderful it felt to have her lips rest against his; how her smile felt pulling against his own.

"Dark coat and full suit. You'll be frisked for guns, so take a knife. I'll be trying to find a place to put one." Jenny pushed herself up off of the floor. "We'll be leaving in two hours!"

Jethro lay down on the floor amongst the photographs of the brutal. He believed it was too late for him, as he fingered one of the red bands. She was fast becoming the only thing he cared about.

X

They were walking through Paris to get to the catacombs. The city seemed cold that evening, and so was Jenny as they walked to the party. Jethro looked handsome in a dark suit, the tie loose around his neck. The long coat would be lost by the end of the evening; the catacombs would be warmed by the bright lights on display for the rave and by the end no one cared about clothing anyway. She just hoped that Jethro would lend her something to wear when they got out of the party.

One of her few regrets in life was never going to the catacombs as a teenager. Hell not living in _Paris_as a teenager was something she regretted. She missed the city so much - the energy, the culture. The way you could get lost in it. This was going to be a night she and Jethro would remember for years, she was sure of it.

She was _definitely_ sure she would remember it. She planned to tell him she loved him tonight.

Jenny Shepard had never really been in love before, not truly. Not like how she felt about Jethro. She knew he felt off about the age gap, but she couldn't imagine anyone she wanted to be with more than Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The times when they weren't pretending, when they were just themselves, Jenny had never felt such adoration from him, and such love from her own heart.

"Six million dead bodies in catacombs that stretch the city…not a big fan of this idea, Jen."

She turned around at his words, her hands reaching for his. "You called me 'Jen'."

Jethro smiled and leaned down to brush his lips over hers. "Yeah, I did. Got a problem with that?"

Her hand reached up to pull Jethro's head to hers for a full on kiss. Her head tilted as his tongue entered her mouth, slowly touching every nerve. His grip on her body grew stronger, firmer as he leaned closer into the kiss. Jenny moaned under his touch, enjoying the way he reacted to her.

"Don't lose me, promise?"

Jethro grabbed her hand and pressed his mouth to the inside of her wrist. "I promise."

With a smile, Jenny walked forward in high heels towards the catacombs. After showing their bands, the pair was led straight down into the darkness, where Gibbs discovered the bands glowed in the dark. They continued down into the caverns filled with the bodies of the dead until they got to the main pit where the party was being held.

"Coats, please?"

Jethro pulled off his coat, his gun hidden deftly away. There was no way he was just bringing a _knife_to this party. Jenny unbuttoned her long coat and peeled it off her shoulders, revealing her dangerous outfit for the night. A mint green bra and panties set, covered by an almost nonexistent white lace camisole. Jethro couldn't keep his eyes off of her as Jenny handed the man her coat and dragged Jethro into the party.

"Jen?"

The music was loud, pulsing. The lights were hot, and Jethro could see a fine sheen of sweat forming on Jenny's skin. She grabbed him by the tie and started dancing in front of him. The large lights highlighted the skulls that were all around them. A city of the dead.

"This is fucked up."

Jenny moved in closer to him, throwing her arms around his neck. "This is _Halloween_, Jethro. Doesn't get more fucked up than that."

This was a different Jenny then the one he saw working. This was the loose one, the one she was when they were alone. The one that had grown up in Paris, that had run away from home, that had left law school to start working in politics because she could bullshit better than anyone else. This was the woman he was falling in love with.

As Jenny leaned back and ground her body against him, Jethro tried to get his bearings. His hands were tight on her waist as he moved with her, his fingers digging into her hips. There was no way in _hell_he was leaving her in this godforsaken hellhole.

The catacombs needed no decoration for Halloween, but he was sure there were fake cobwebs up over some sections. There was ice buckets filled with vodka dotted around the floor, and both men and women were hoisted up onto crosses pressed against the skulls as morbid party pieces. Most of the women on the floor were in lingerie like Jenny. The rich and powerful men were with their concubines, grinding on the floor. Some of the men were soaked in vodka and down to their boxer shorts. He could see several couples going off to have sex in the catacombs, bare flesh pressing against decaying bone.

He felt sick.

"Target is sitting in the VIP area at the back. His two girls are topless," Jenny whispered in his ear before biting the lobe. He got a glimpse at the man, his own suit loose and, as Jenny said, his two girls only wearing black panties whilst backed up against the skulls.

Jethro slipped down the strap of Jenny's camisole, nibbling on the skin. She tasted good. "It's like a goddamn orgy in here," Jethro whispered in her ear, his own body betraying how much he wanted her despite the setting.

"They sell drugs down here. Weapons occasionally. Miles and miles of catacombs, perfect hiding places. My contact says there are girls down here sometimes."

The crowd grew closer in the catacombs. They were squashed in, Jenny pressed up against his erection as they danced to the intolerable music. His mouth was on her neck, giving her an almighty hickey. Her eyes were either closed or watching their target. Through the throng of the crowd, Jenny could see that he was hitting one of the girls. Jenny's stomach turned. That was one of the reasons why she wanted most of these new arms dealers taken down. The older ones were part of the Cold War era, where dignity and honour came into it. Not these psychos who treated women worse than the guns they sold to kill children.

"Jen…"

The sound of her name coming from his lips alerted her that Jethro was getting more and more worked up. They were part of the sex mentality in this place, addicted to the music, to each other. Jethro turned her around in the crowd, her underwear sticking to her. His tie was in pieces, her hands moving under his shirt. She had a perfect view of their target, although Jenny couldn't hear what they were saying.

Then Jethro slipped his fingers inside her, and Jenny stopped caring.

She knew she should keep an eye on the target, but the crowd was bigger and growing more frenzied as the lights became brighter and the music pumped harder out of the speakers. They were part of it all, the rhythm and the sweat. Jethro's fingers moved in and out of her as she rubbed against his cock. She had been slick five minutes into the party, and now she was so soaked she needed to take everything off and let Jethro have her. She clung to him, crying out his name with every sharp thrust of his fingers inside her panties. Her eyes were screwed shut, she didn't even know if anyone was watching her partner get her off in the city of the dead. She didn't care; she just needed him to touch her.

Just as Jethro hit the right spot and she came, the lights went out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Lose ****Yourself ****with ****Me ****by ****DD ****Agent**

_I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS.  
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**_Part Two_**

He promised he wouldn't leave her.

He promised.

And now Jenny Shepard was stuck in fucking _lingerie_in the middle of the Paris catacombs. Her skin was frozen; her damp panties making her feel dirty. The red glow in the dark wristband had long since lost its power, and she kept bumping into skulls. She felt like when she was seven, and she had got lost Christmas shopping in New York with her mother.

Only this was worse. She had the power to save herself and couldn't summon the energy to do so.

She'd taken her heels off as soon as she'd realised she was lost. She could still run in them, but they made too much noise on the stone floors. Her gun wasn't with her, but she had her knife. She'd managed to tape it to the underwire of her bra. With the camisole covering it, no one had even noticed. They were too busy staring at her nipples than consider what she could possibly be concealing.

Knife in hand. Mascara smeared. Heels discarded. Feet bleeding.

She felt like the heroine in a porn slasher film.

Amongst the quiet of the catacombs, Jenny heard voices in the dark. She started to walk towards it. It was another circular gravesite, but this one was their target's hide out for the arms and battered girls he traded. Jenny felt a warm rush of pride go through her. This evening wasn't a total bust after all. Of course she was alone and looked like a zombie fighting stripper, but she could get past that.

"Quick Jean, pack the damn boxes!"

Jenny leaned over into the light to watch their target strike his right hand man. She winced as blood sprayed from his nose onto one of the dirtied girls lying on the floor. One was dead, a bullet wound to the forehead. This was fast becoming the city of the damned.

"What if the people from the party come?"

The man they had watched all night grinned. "The music from the party still goes on my friend. You'll find that the people I invited prefer to do their business in the dark. Like that redhead on the floor whose boyfriend had his fingers inside her?" Jenny shivered. "Oblivious to everything around them. I would bet you any sum of money that they're fucking up against a corpse right now."

Jenny continued to watch for a moment as their target signed off on another shipment of arms. This was it; they had the evidence now to nail the dealer, to stop his arms trade and to save some of the young women he entrapped. That was where Jenny's focus truly was.

"I think you're lost, little one."

One of the bouncers from the party grabbed her wrist and yanked it back forcefully, almost breaking it. His body was heavy against hers; the freshness of his breath against the stench of death making her gag. She was thrown onto the body of the dead girl.

"You know, we were just talking about you."

Jenny looked up into the face of the arms dealer so elusive that they didn't even have a code name for him. His gaze was almost wolf like, but he turned quickly away from her at the sound of footsteps and another echoing voice in French.

"Henri, Henri…you do like the theatrics."

Their target smacked her in the face - forcing her down to the ground. They hadn't taken her knife thankfully; they were more focussed on their arms shipment then some silly American who had taken the wrong path away from her boyfriend. Jenny tried to get her head together, to focus her gaze and managed to find the second arms dealer in the room. He looked familiar, the white hat all she could focus on.

"Rene, don't mistake me - I appreciate you trying to mentor me."

The new man coughed, and Jenny got hold of the handle of her knife. It had been a present from her father, and she wasn't leaving it amongst the dead. "Then stop this, Henri. Stop being a caricature of what is wrong with this world. Be a businessman, not _this_. You disgust me."

Sharp footsteps told Jenny that the new man had left, and it was just the original gruesome trio to deal with. Henri, Jean and the bouncer. Plus the still alive girl, but Jenny was hoping she wasn't going to be a threat.

"Okay, Jean, now Froggie is dealt with lets handle the princess."

The bouncer picked Jenny up, his hands groping her breasts. She took the opportunity of their ignorance to stab him in the throat with her knife. As his blood splashed over her body, the screams of the bouncer alerted the men that there was a fox in the hen house. Jenny preferred to be considered a wolf.

"You _bitch!_"

Jenny scrambled past one of the boxes and ducked down as silencer fire hit over her head. For the first time since the lights went out, she could hear the pulse of music under her feet. Another scream was heard, but this one was feminine. They had killed the last girl.

"Come out, princess. We won't hurt you, we promise."

She rolled her eyes, realising that the men still thought her a dumb American. Oh well, so be it. One of the men - Jean - circled around the boxes and aimed his gun for Jenny. The dark of the crypt meant that she could lie on the floor undetected and stab him with her knife in the thigh. His gun went off, no silencer, and hit one of the skulls in the head. Two down, one asshole to go.

Jenny was about to get a look at where their target was when a pair of rough hands dragged her over the boxes and onto the growing pile of dead. Henri stomped on her hand, making her lose the knife. Jenny tried to reach for it, but he moved his foot over to her throat, crushing her windpipe.

"Oh little princess, you have stirred up a hornet's nest."

Henri raised his gun to shoot her in the head when someone double tapped him in the chest.

Jenny sighed with relief, gasping for air. She stumbled upwards to see who it was, and cried with joy to see Jethro. She knew he would come looking for her. He immediately checked to see if there was anyone who could disturb them, anyone who could take another shot at her. Then he was there, his arms wrapped around her, protecting her. Jenny couldn't help but feel relief that he had her back, that he was there when she had needed him.

This was the moment.

"I love you."

A small chuckle from him reverberated in the chamber. "That'll be the day," he whispered with a wink. "Come on, Shepard. Let's get out of here."

She was too dazed from that evening to even feel disappointed by his response.

X

She couldn't remember getting out of the catacombs alive. She supposed that was a general reaction to the city of the dead. She remembered finding her knife and wiping the blood off on her thigh, wanting to make it pristine. She remembered Jethro recovering his slugs from the through and through shoot of Henri. Other than that, and the fact that she had unlocked the door to their Paris safe house wearing a dead man's coat, she didn't know how they had left the party.

"Next year can we stay inside and maybe watch a scary movie or something?" Jethro suggested as he tended to her wounds, still wearing the suit he had been in the catacombs. She was now wearing a fresh shirt of his whilst he cleaned her broken feet. "Maybe _Carrie_or something?"

"You think you're going to still be with me next year?" Jenny teased, trying hard not to let her disappointment get the better of her. The only way she could try and live with herself was in believing the idea that he must have thought she didn't truly mean her words, when in fact she didn't mean anything less.

Her hair fell into her face and Jethro pushed it back, looking up at her with a smile. His thumb stroked her cheek. "Oh I hope so. I really do." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Sleep. You need to get some sleep, Jen."

Jenny nodded and stood up from the bed. She had every intention of walking across the hall and slipping between the cotton sheets in her own room. But Jethro's hand on her wrist halted her.

"Stay here with me, please?"

She licked her lips. This was going to make things awkward. She should have kept her damn mouth shut. "Jethro…"

"I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night and have to wonder whether I imagined saving you or not."

She smiled at his honesty, and his protectiveness. He was quite a man. "I was doing pretty well before you showed up, thank you," Jenny teased, before stroking his hand. "_Thank__you_."

She stood and tried to walk before she tumbled. Jethro wrapped his arms under her knees and hoisted her back into his bed, keeping her hostage against him. She lay on top of him for a while, let him fuss over her. He wasn't a man of big words; she didn't expect him to declare his love with flowers and an accordion. But…she wanted to know she wasn't the only one who was feeling like this.

"You know what you said in the…" Jethro fumbled over his words, trying to make right the awkwardness they both felt running in the background now. "I don't like people who throw around those words."

Jenny looked up, running a hand over his face. She wasn't sure what game he was playing, but she wanted no part of it. She just wanted the truth. "You're giving me a get out of jail free card. I've always been a _Cluedo_gal."

"_Battleship_ man."

She made a great show of a shrug before throwing her arms around his neck. He kept her close. "I guess it's just not meant to be." She closed her eyes, before staring into those blue ones that she truly wanted to wake up to every morning. "But I meant what I said. I love you."

Jenny waited for the rejection, but all she found was his soft mouth slanting over hers. "I love you back." She grinned and they kissed again, an energy running through them now. "So...maybe you should start sleeping in here." Gibbs nuzzled her neck. "Permanently."

Jenny looked up at him, grinning. This was better than expected. "Really want to start sleeping with another redhead, Gibbs? Could lead to divorce."

"Nah. You're not crazy enough to marry me."

She giggled again and reached for him. "Right now that is seriously debatable."

Jenny reached over to him, to finish what was started in the catacombs and what they both needed to cement this new state. This time, however, she wanted to undress him. He was always undressing her, now it was her turn to get what she needed.

The tie was already hanging off, and as she wound the silk round her hands, ideas forming that would satisfy all her fantasies about being bound by him. She unravelled it to the floor, letting it linger in the air before it joined the ruined lingerie that he had already removed from her skin.

The waistcoat had simple buttons, dark like the rest of his attire. Jenny undid them one by one, her hands trailing down the soft material before moving him forward to take off the new layer. Then he was just in a shirt, the material bunched against his elbows. Her fingers fumbled as she unrolled the sleeves, soft skin trailing down his bare arms. She pushed herself into his arms, letting her fingers undo every one of his buttons whilst he cradled her body. It was the opposite tableau of earlier that evening.

"Jenny…" She ran her hands down his chest, stroking the muscle. He was in good shape, the hours he spent jogging around Paris or boxing in their basement was time well spent.

The shirt was left to the floor and she reached for the belt buckle. She wasn't trying to torture, tease him. She was just trying to commit every moment of their first time making love to memory. This time she wouldn't be sneaking out after they'd slept together, wouldn't have to sneak condoms into the weekly shopping so Ducky wouldn't find out. This was something he could chastise them for, but now they would not feel guilty.

His trousers were discarded quickly, his underwear dropped to the floor without a second thought. As Jenny pulled the sheets around them, Jethro reached to undo his crisp shirt that she wore. Jenny's hands stilled him, and the look in his eyes made him wonder whether they truly knew each other at all.

"Leave it on, please."

They had their entire lives do that.

Their kiss was subtle, barely there touches of lips as their hands moved elsewhere. Jethro tried not to touch her chest, he didn't know what bruises the men had inflicted upon her but he knew the bruises on her hips were his. They continued kissing, lying side by side on the sheets - each other's equal. Jenny guided him inside her, and he just rocked against her, wanting the touch of her mouth more than any other part of her.

Eventually Jenny took the lead, as he was happy to let her do and he watched as she moved up and down him, her hips controlling his pleasure. But her mouth never left his, always lingering and needing such a simple but intimate touch.

He came against her mouth, his hands gripping the bed sheets instead of her. There would be time later where he could have her all over the safe house, all over Paris. At least, the places he hadn't had his partner already. But for now he just wanted to keep kissing her. Jethro changed the angle momentarily so he was rubbing against Jenny in just the right way, and she gripped onto his hair when she came.

They lay together, listening to the sounds of Paris meld into the November chorus of All Saints Day. Jenny's skin felt clammy through the thin shirt, and sweat was forcing his hair to stick to him. But neither one cared, they were just content to enjoy the first step in their new relationship.

When Ducky came in with his morning paper, happy that November had started, he went to check that Jenny had survived the catacombs. He found her and Jethro lying together in bed. In his time working with both the young redhead and the distinguished former marine, Ducky had watched them both sleep.

This was the first time he had ever seen them at peace.


End file.
